


How to Laugh During Sex

by bondboy68



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Bossuet, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, cramps suuuuck, dom Jehan, dorks in bed, let's talk about sex, verse Bahorel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bondboy68/pseuds/bondboy68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes sex isn't sexy. Sometimes it's gross, or dirty, or hilarious. Sometimes sex is real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grantaire is Horny and Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> This started as me thinking "what if fanfiction was actually realistic about sex?" which turned into a conversation in my head between Bahorel and Grantaire about douches. So I decided to do a little series of short snippets where sex is talked about and done realistically. There may be explicit chapters later, but for now it's a lot of talk about the dirty reality of sex and how that is navigated in the real world. Lots of ships and spend a lot of time fucking around with D/s rolls and gender rolls. 
> 
> This isn't meant to be a sexy fantasy. Hopefully it's funny, and informative.

Grantaire’s stomach growled loudly and he dropped his head to the table, groaning. “I am /so/ hungry…” 

Beside him, Bahorel patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Doing the old FJD?”

“FJD?” asked Jehan, tucking into a tray piled with food from the cafe. Grantaire gazed at it longingly. 

“Fasting, juicing, douching. Grantaire’s getting laid.” He laughed, ducking at a swipe from the brunette. 

“Ew.” Jehan shot them a glare. “I’m /eating/.” 

“You didn’t mind talking about douches the other night when you were eating me--” He stopped a swift kick from the poet. 

“Can we not talk about sex until after I finally get some?” 

“Regular tops never appreciate what we have to go through,” Bahorel pouted, still rubbing his knee. 

“No complaining,” Jehan snapped. “I shave my balls for you.” 

“Please,” Grantaire whined. “I’m hungry and horny. Let’s talk about something else.” 

“Go get a fruit smoothie.” Bahorel waved toward the cafe line. Grantaire just glared. 

“You’re a fruit smoothie, you overenthusiastic sub.” Jehan laughed at that, nodding his head in agreement. Bahorel just shrugged.

“You’re being mean because you’re undernourished. I understand. I’m glad Enjoras is finally going to fuck you.”

“We’d fuck more often he if wasn’t so damn anal about it. Forgive the pun.”

Jehan threw a fry at him and declared, as the official Best Writer in the Group “Not forgiven.” 

“Seriously, though. Do you know how much time I have to put into this? I just want to get laid. And it’s not just the diet, the prep takes forever.” He pressed his forehead to the table, moaning. 

“Well,” Bahorel started, “to be far…. you kind of are a tight sonofabitch.” Jehan choked on his pizza and Bahorel rubbed his back, still addressing R. “Just prop your ass up and watch TV.” 

“He just doesn't trust me when I say I can take it. He’s such a control freak.”

“He’s got a super-dom streak,” reasoned Bahorel. 

“Buy him a paddle. I know a good place,” offered Jehan. 

Grantaire shot them both a look. “Learning way more than I need about you guys’ sex life.” 

“Well our set life is the best.” Bahorel grin and high fived Jehan. 

“It’s not a contest. But if it was an Olympic event, you’d win the ten-second dash.” At that, Jehan choked on a nacho. 

“That was one time!” Grantaire smirked and shrugged, stealing a chip off Jehan’s plate. “Stop eating processed carbs and buy yourself a damn fruit smoothie so your boyfriend can finger you loose as grandma.” 

“We made a rule about that! No talking about sex and old people in the same breath!” 

Bossuet had chosen that moment to appear at the table, food in hand. She stared wide-eyed for a moment. “You guys have that rule too? I told Joly it wasn’t weird!”


	2. Combeferre and Courfeyrac (attempt to) Make-out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorks.

Courfeyrac rolled onto his back, pulling Combeferre on top of him. Their bare chests were pressed close together, Combeferre slotting a leg between Courf’s thighs to grind against him, making him moan. Courfeyrac dug his nails into the other’s back and scraped them down. 

“Ow!” Combeferre pulled away with a hiss. 

“Sorry, too hard? Sorry!” Courfeyrac’s face was genuinely apologetic and he rubbed Ferre’s back where he’d scratched it. 

Combeferre smiled down at him. “It’s fine.” He leaned down, resuming their kiss. They picked up where they left off quickly, grinding and groaning against each other’s mouths. Courfeyrac moved his hand to squeeze Ferre’s ass and he moaned. Courfeyrac caught on that kneading the other’s ass while he arched his hips up against him caused Combeferre to let out loud strings of moans. 

“Yeah, you like that?” he whispered, slapping Ferre’s ass hard. 

The other man yelped. “Not particularly!”

“Sorry, sorry got carried away! I’m sorry.” 

Combeferre sighed. “It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, ‘Ferre. I’ll be gentle.” 

The man laughed above him and couldn’t help but kiss him against. The rutted and sucked at each other’s lips and tongues, Courfeyrac slowly rolling them again, pinning Combeferre’s body under his. He kissed down the man’s neck, over his collarbone, licking and sucking at a perk nipple. 

“Courf?”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“Not really doing anything for me.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” He moved away from the man’s nipples and kissed lower. As he peppered kisses over his stomach, Combeferre let out a screech. Instantly Courf pulled away, eyes full of concern. “What, what’s wrong? Are you ok.”

“Sorry. Ticklish.” 

Courf dropped his head onto the man’s chest. “Oh my god,” he groaned. Combeferre’s face was flushed, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he ran his fingers through Courfeyrac’s hair. “We are so bad at making out!”

“No we’re not,” Combeferre told him, pulling his glasses on. He looked down at the other. “Ok, maybe a little…” He put his fingers under the man’s chin to lift his head. “Wanna take off our pants?” Courf nodded, still pouting. “Ok we’ll take off our pants.” He laid back, letting the man unbutton and pull off his jeans. Courfeyrac crawled back over him and they began to kiss again while he removed his own pants. 

“Ferre,” he said after a minute. “I’m stuck.” He shook his foot, trying to dislodge his jeans. Combeferre snickered. Courfeyrac reached down to pull the pant leg off and couldn’t seem to yank it free. “OHMYFUCKINGGOD! Get it off!” 

Laughing, Combeferre reach for the offending pants. “Stop moving. Let me get it.” He managed to remove the jeans and throw them to the floor. “Ok now?”

“Yes.” He pushed Combeferre back onto the bed, sliding between his legs and kissing him again until he was pushed back. 

“Wait a second.” Combeferre pulled off his glasses and placed them safely away. “Ok, good now.” They began to kiss again, Combeferre wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac’s shoulders and his legs around his waist. Soon they were rutting against each other, panting and moaning into each other’s mouths. 

“Owowwowow!” 

Combeferre stilled. “What? What?!” 

“Owowow motherfucking cramp!” Courfeyrac pulled away, holding his leg and writing in pain. “Oooowwwwww.”

Combeferre reached for him. “Let me see.” He carefully massaged the man’s calf. “Relax, it’s ok. Just relax.” After a few minutes he managed to rub the cramp away. 

“I’m not even in the mood anymore,” Courfeyrac declared.

“You want to just watch a movie?”

“...No, I lied. I’m still in the mood.”

Combeferre grinned. “Good.” He climbed on top of Courfeyrac and kissed him hard, accidentally clashing their teeth together. “Ow, sorry.”

“It’s fine, just close your mouth when you come in next time.”


End file.
